Bitter Winds
by GigiHudson
Summary: After yet another fight, Stiles is left bleeding and close to death. He tried to save Derek, though no one knows why. And after seeing what he did, Derek can't just let him die; so he turns him. But now Stiles has to deal with being around Derek all the time, and facing up to how he really feels about his life, and everyone in it.
1. Chapter 1

**Stiles**

"But I don't understand." I looked at the ground. I didn't either, but ever since Derek had turned me, and saved my life, I felt like maybe he wasn't the bad guy. The big bad wolf. Ok, maybe not the time for jokes, but you get the point. I felt like…not like I owed him something, but like I wanted to earn his loyalty. Like we were…bonded almost. I don't know how to explain it, it's weird and probably some freaky ass werewolf thing, but I just couldn't leave Derek out to die like that. Even if he is a raging psychopath with issues.

A very hot psychopath.

Oh god, now was so not the time to be thinking about that. I'd had random, fleeting thoughts of Derek like that before, but since he'd turned me I could barely go an hour without thinking about him. And how sexy he is. Which is totally not the kind of thoughts I should be having about Derek of all people, and not to mention I'm not even gay, I mean I'm in love with Lydia for god's sake, and Lydia is the furthest thing from Derek ever. In the history of the universe,

But that didn't stop me from turning bright red as I answered Scott.

"I know, and…nor do I. Maybe it's some kind of pack thing, or something? I don't know. But what I do know is that he's not the bad guy here Scott. And I just can't treat him like the enemy anymore." Scott didn't look angry, but he did look disappointed. And confused. And maybe even kinda sad, which made me feel like somehow I was failing him. He's my best friend and I'd do anything for him, but…I just couldn't do that to Derek. I just couldn't. And it wasn't like this was a betrayal or anything, I mean it wasn't hurting Scott, but from the way he just tilted his lips down and walked off, I couldn't help but feel like maybe it was.

But how much longer could I walk this line until I either betrayed Scott or betrayed Derek?


	2. Chapter 2

**Stiles**

I finished shoving the basics into my backpack and looked around. I felt confused. Part of me knew that I couldn't stay here, it just wouldn't work, but another part thought; "but if Scott can do it, why can't I?" But Scott's mom knew what he was. I winced at the thought, poor Scott. I was guessing that couldn't be easy. While I was pretty sure Dad realised We Are Not Alone, I doubt he really figured that the monsters in the woods were a bunch of hairy, angst teenagers with issues.

Then again, maybe he did. But either way, I just didn't think I could handle telling him. Would he believe me? Maybe. Would he still love me? Probably. But would he understand or still treat me like his son? I doubt it. And I just couldn't handle seeing the disappointment in his eyes, not for this. But if I told him, I wouldn't be Stiles anymore, I'd be a stranger. And no matter how hairy I got at the full moon, or how many rabbits I might want to eat, that would hurt too much.

So the only other option was to listen to Derek and take "the essentials" and move in with him. Which sounded a lot more thrilling than I imagined it would be, because somehow I got the feeling that what Derek lacked in social skills, he also lacked in domestic ones. And I doubted any of the other "wolf pack" would have any. I was pretty sure that if I asked Erica about domestic skills, she'd rip my throat out. Literally.

But as I looked around again, I felt sick. I didn't want this, I didn't want to leave my dad, I didn't want him to have any more reason to hate me than he already did. And damn it, I didn't think werewolves could even cry, but no those were tears on my face. I wiped them off with the cuff of my hoodie, I didn't need the last time I saw dad to be when I was crying like a girl. That would probably just prove to him even more what an utter disappointment I was.

I shouldered my bag and walked out, unsure of what I was going to say to him. I froze in the hallway, suddenly thinking that maybe I should just leave a note and climb out of the window. That way I wouldn't have to face telling him. And what the hell was I supposed to say? "Sorry dad, I'm a teenage werewolf now. I know, I know, crazy right? Anyway, I need to move in with Derek, yeah Derek Hale, the missing murder suspect you've been looking for. Well bye, and don't forget to eat healthy! Hey- wait- what are you doing with that white jacket?" Yeah, that was probably how it would go.

But he was the sheriff, so I was kind of worried that maybe he wouldn't just accept it,. Maybe he'd try and look for me. Right now, I wasn't sure which thought made me more nervous; him going out and looking for me, or him not.

Finally I decided to leave a note. It would be easier that way, but dear god what was I even going to write? I settled, in the end, for something close enough to the truth that maybe he would believe it.

"Dad.

I know things haven't been easy since mom died, and I'm sorry, I know I've made things worse. But maybe I can fix this, maybe if I go away I'll stop screwing things up, you wont lose your job again, and it will be ok. Alright, not ok, but better. I'm trying to be the son you wanted, and I'm really sorry that I haven't managed it yet.  
I love you.

(P.S make sure you keep eating healthy ok, your cholesterol is really bad right now dad.)

Stiles."


	3. Chapter 3

**Stiles**

I didn't have any trouble climbing out of the window, and when I jumped down from the balcony I was careful not to make any noise. I didn't feel up lying about where I was going, and the whole point of the note had been so I didn't have to tell him face to face.

As I looked back up at my house I felt more tears coming from my eyes, and looked down, not bothering to wipe them away as I walked down the road and into the woods. I'd felt left behind when Scott became a werewolf. All these cool things he could do, and he was stronger and faster, better at lacrosse, and I was just boring, geeky Stiles. Not the type of guy that Lydia would ever notice, let alone date. Stiles, the class clown, Stiles, the weird friend. And yeah, sure, for a little while I'd felt jealous. But then I'd seen what came with being a werewolf and actually, I didn't want that so much.

Not to mention getting tortured or burnt alive by crazy Kate didn't exactly sound like fun. So actually, I wasn't that jealous anymore. Go figure. But I'd still felt out of place. How was I supposed to compete with this? How was I supposed to protect Scott and Lydia and everyone else when I couldn't keep up with them?  
And actually, that was how I'd been turned. One of the Argent's had shot at Derek and I'd jumped in front of him. I had no idea why, because we'd been having an argument when I'd done it.

He'd been telling me and Scott to go home, to stay out of their business and I'd just seen the arrow in time, and being the utter idiot I am, (I really don't know why I threw myself in front of him) I'd knocked him out of the way and had been hit instead. I'd figured it wouldn't hurt that much, I'd seen all of them get hit by bullets and arrows enough times. I figured it would hurt like a bitch, but that I'd be fine.

I guess I forgot about all that supernatural healing stuff. I hadn't been fine. I'd felt like my body was burning, ripping itself apart from the inside out. I'd only managed to fall to the floor while everyone around me fought for their lives. But I'd been fighting too. And then everything had gone black, and I'd only been able to hear what was going on. Scott shouting at Derek, Derek telling me how stupid I was, how I was only a human, that he would have been fine, that I should have just stayed out of this.

But if I was honest, I knew that I couldn't have let him get hit. The arrow had wolfs bane in, which might just be a weird smelling plant to me, but to him was a deathly poison. And ok, no I hadn't known that before I'd taken it, but it doesn't change anything. Something in me hadn't said "hey, it's an arrow, but Derek's a werewolf, he'll be fine." No, instead like some utter idiot, I'd lunged in front of him.

And then bam! I'd woken up to the ever so delightful knowledge that I would be turning hairy at the full moon. Oh joy. I'd managed to put off thinking about it for the last week, and had ignored both Derek's "advice" and the what it meant that I'd jumped in front of an arrow for him, but it couldn't really put it off any longer.  
It didn't really help that every time I saw Scott he'd question me about it. Clearly intuition did not come being a werewolf seeing as he just wouldn't get the hint that Derek was not on the list of "things Stiles wants to talk about."

I ran a hand through my hair; why couldn't things just be like they were before? I was in love with Lydia, Lydia was in love with Jackson, Scott was equally as nerdy and under appreciated as I was, there were no murderous werewolves, there were no crazy ass werewolf hunters…I knew what gender/species I liked…

I froze. I hadn't meant to think that. It had been the one thing that above all else I did NOT want to think about. Oh dear god, I can handle the werewolves and the crazy ass hunters but the one thing I couldn't handle was the thought that I meant be attracted to Derek. Derek Hale, angsty bad boy werewolf of the year. I really did not need that worry on top of the already spectacular list I had compiled.

I started walking again, dragging my hands through my hair as I shook my head. No, no, no. I couldn't be attracted to Derek. I mean ok, I could be attracted to Derek, everyone was attracted to Derek, he's gorgeous and muscled and has that whole chiselled Greek statue thing going on, not to mention the "too cool for school" attitude that he never takes off. But that doesn't mean I like him.

"It doesn't ok. It just doesn't. Of course I don't like him. That would be stupid." I muttered the words to myself.  
"You don't like who?" The question rung out in the dark woods, and I froze. The voice had come from behind me, but as I turned to face him, I knew it would be Derek. Because life just hated me that much.

"No one. I don't like anyone. Oh wait, that's your thing isn't it?" Sarcasm is the best defence. That and babbling. "I mean of course I don't like anyone, don't mind me, I'm just talking to myself, massive life changing event and all that, sorry I'm not quite with it right now." He stared at me with a look that was a cross between confusion and pity. I sighed before running my hands through my hair again, which was really just an excuse to look up at Derek without being caught.

"Well if you're staying, get inside." His voice and had turned hard and cold again, the usual welcoming Derek demeanour, and I sighed before shoving my hands back in my pockets.  
The house was derelict, at least from the outside, and I wondered why the hell he didn't just buy a nice new condo somewhere. Surely he had enough money, I'd seen the payout that the insurance company had given him and his family, it had been massive.

And then another thought struck me. "Hang on, don't the Argents know this is your house? Aren't they going to be, you know, coming round here to try and kill you and time soon?" Derek, who'd walked off in front of me, turned round and was suddenly only a few inches away.  
"Actually, they do. But they think I abandoned it a while ago, so right now it's the last place they would think I'd come back to. Which makes it safe." He growled the words, low and angrily and I would have taken a step back if I hadn't been so stunned. I held my hands up, palms facing him, and replied. "Ok, ok. Sorry." After a few seconds of us staring at each other he shook his head and turned around again.

"Number one house rule Stiles, don't question the Alpha."


	4. Chapter 4

**Stiles**

After a muttered "your door is the second to last one at the end of the hallway," I walked up to find my bedroom, and dropping my bag down on the floor, collapsed onto the bed. It wasn't that I was physically tired, I really wasn't. But the stress of everything had started to hit me, and I felt exhausted. Which wasn't really saying all that much seeing as the most exercise I got was walking from my bedroom to the fridge, but eh.

I was surprised by how comfy the bed was though, and how neat the room was. I'd been expecting a mattress on the floor in an empty room filled with debris. You know, crack house chic and all that. I hadn't been expecting a four poster bed (old and slightly damaged though it was, but hey beggers can't be choosers) or for there to be a small dark wood bedside table or an old double wardrobe in the corner, though admittedly unburnt, the ivory coloured paint was peeling from it and a jagged half of the mirror was missing.

When I caught sight of myself in the mirror, I recoiled. I looked awful, which isn't really any departure from tradition, but instead of the usual gawky teenager, I looked ill. I had huge shadows under my eyes and my skin had turned a sickly yellow. It reminded me of how mom had looked before…

I shook my head, tears welling up in my eyes. I wouldn't, I couldn't think of mom. Not yet. Still not yet.

Instead, I looked away and went to unpack my stuff, (which was really more of a pitiful collection of the nerdiest stuff ever), before giving up and going on my laptop. Nothing to cure unhappiness like WoW right? But actually, apparently there was a really serious problem with this house.

Running down the stairs, clutching my laptop to my chest, I searched the kitchen frantically before what seemed a den-type thing, and then finally going into the abandoned rooms at the front of the house. Which really did have scream "crack house chic" though I'd never tell Derek that. I liked my internal organs to stay that way, internal.

Derek had his back to me, and was doing pushups. I'd been intending to ask him why the hell he didn't have any wifi, it's the 21st century for gods sake, but any words I'd been about to say had died in my mouth. He was wearing a black tank top and as he pushed up and down I could see the thick muscles in his arms moving. Which really didn't do anything to help my current thought process.

I stared at him, unable to think of anything other than how good he looked. He glistened with sweat, and he was breathing hard as he moved, which made me think he'd probably been doing this for the last few hours. But jesus christ, he looked so good. Suddenly I realised what I was thinking, oh god-.

"What do you want Stiles?" He carried on doing his pushups, and I froze, realising he'd probably known I was hear from the moment I stepped into the doorway. Which meant he knew how long I'd been staring at him. Oh great.

"I um, ahh, well…um, you don't have wifi." he stopped what he was doing and turned to look at me.

"So?" He replied, in an incredulous voice. Which actually, yeah, when he said it in that tone, why had I come rushing down here? The man was a werewolf on the run from the law living in a burnt, abandoned building. Was I really expecting wifi? Well, yeah. But that probably wasn't my smartest move.

Then again, nor had staring at Derek's ass for the last few minutes either. Oh god.

"It doesn't matter." I sighed. "Really. I…um…." Derek had gotten up and was walking towards me. I kept backing up. "Um, yeah, like I um, said it just, um, dude, it's kind of hard to think when you're that close ok?" Derek was literally inches away from me, and my back had just touched the wall. He had an unreadable expression on his face, as always, and I wondered if I was about to get my throat ripped out. Great.

But as I spoke, he stopped.

"Why?" His voice was just as unreadable, but god I could smell him suddenly and he smelt so good. Like a mixture of all the best things and somethings I couldn't name but just knew, you know? And I could feel the heat that radiated off of him, it was like standing next to an open fire. All werewolves seemed to run hot but dear god, he seemed to be burning. And my hormonal teenage body just seemed to really dig that. Which is why suddenly, awkward teenage boner at the worst of possible times.

Rock, hard place, I'm Stiles. Hi.

Suddenly I felt Derek's warm breath on my face, and remembered he'd asked me a question. I met his red eyes, hoping to what ever gods, or deities, that were out there that he wouldn't notice the raging boner that was now there.

"Well you know, the whole ripping my throat out thing, that kind of makes me a little wary you know? Not to mention the glowing red eyes, which may I say look sufficiently terrifying, and have thoroughly succeeded in scaring the living shit out of me." I ran out of breath, and to my utter shock, (and disappointment, not that I would ever admit it), Derek actually stepped back. His eyes were their normal colour again, and the flash of…something…that I had glimpsed in his eyes had gone.

He turned away again, and I realised this was probably my dismissal. I sighed and walked towards the door, half confused and half aroused. Before I left, I glanced back at Derek, and as I walked out realised that he was standing stiffly, facing the opposite wall. Which just seemed weird. But I wasn't going to push my luck, so I went upstairs as quickly as I could, and just as I shut my bedroom door behind me, I caught the smell of Derek again, the earthy scent of his that I had smelt before.

It permeated the whole room, and for some reason it just made me harder than before. I sucked in a deep breath, struggling to walk over to the bed. A few seconds later I heard the front door slam, and a few seconds after that, Derek's car driving off.

I ripped off my pants, knowing there was no one else in the house from my quick check earlier, and jerked myself off, needing to get rid of the tension (and my hard on). When I came this time, it was better than ever before, and I felt the world go white around me as I laid backwards on the bed, Derek's scent all around me.


	5. Chapter 5

**Stiles **

When I woke up it was dark. Which actually, to a normal person? Not that scary. To a guy who was in a house filled with very angry werewolves though? Yeah, terrifying. Which is why when I grouped in the dark for the lamp on my desk, and found nothing, I panicked like hell. Then I remembered; I had moved in with Derek and the rest of the pack. Sigh.

It wouldn't even be a problem if I had all my werewolf senses and the magic shit that came along with that, but no such luck. Until I turned, (more like lost my mind and hunted bunnies but whatever), I was essentially still a human. Oh YAY. No really, I just can't contain my excitement.

Thank god though, because after like 5 minutes of feeling around my bed, I finally found my phone, with most of the battery still there. I used that as a light and grabbed my thick red hoodie from the top of my bag, (because god it was cold in here, did Derek not understand what a heater was?) and pulling it on over my bare chest. I zipped it right up to my neck, but couldn't be bothered to put on any pants. Boxers were enough right? I mean no one would be up at this time.

Not that I actually had any idea what time it was. After a quick look at the clock on my phone, I was happy to report that it was…drum roll please…4am. Nope, not even Derek would be awake now…a thought that made me secretly kind of lonely, but mostly pretty happy. I didn't really think he'd rip out my throat, but it was _Derek_. You kinda never knew with him.

I walked down the dark stairs and tried to remember the way to the kitchen. In a typical Stiles way, I managed to fall down the last three steps. Fucking rotten step. However, for once maybe the big guy in the sky didn't have it out for me because as I flailed my arms, I managed to land silently, my werewolf skills kicking in. Huh. Well that was new. My bare feet were a little more careful though, as I roamed the empty hallways, looking for the kitchen.

When I found it, I couldn't really believe what I was seeing. I had expected the kitchen to be like most of the other rooms in the house, derelict and in disrepair. Apparently, when it came to the kitchen, Derek was more than happy to renovate.  
"Holy crap."

A giant, double door, stainless steel fridge stood opposite a giant oven, set into the wall. In the middle of both walls was a solid block of oak wood, so clean it literally shone. There were cupboards set under the light oak counter, which ran along both parallel walls. At the end of the kitchen, there was a large brick wall, which was totally bare. The kitchen, all in all, was pretty sparse, the rest of the walls a gleaming white, but it was such a step up from the crap that was the rest of the house that it was like a freaking palace in comparison.

I dove towards the fridge and opened it as fast as I possibly could. "Oh my god." I was all I could do not to drool over the freaking thing. It was filled with food, and most of it was total junk food. It was perfect. I pulled out a huge pack of bacon, found some bread, and ten minutes later had a huge bacon baguette in front of me. It smelt like heaven. I just can't put into words the goodness that was that sandwich.

Afterwards, I raided the cabinets for more food and struck gold with a huge pack of chips. I ripped them open and started eating before a cough from behind made me jump. I swallowed, putting the bag down on the counter and turning round, cringing as I realized it was Derek. For once he didn't look angry though, only confused. Ha. Seeing Derek look confused actually made me simultaneously want to laugh and give him a hug at the same time.

Seeing as the latter wasn't really an option, I went for laughing. As soon as I did, Derek stopped looking confused and started looking pissed. I flung up my hands. "Woah. Calm down there. I wasn't laughing at you. Ok, well I was but it was only because you looked so confused and bewildered as to why a rabid teenage boy was rummaging through your kitchen which ok, you have to admit it totally a hilarious and laughable situation I mean it's like something out of a sitcom really-" I broke off when suddenly Derek was inches away from me.  
"Stiles." He looked annoyed.

"-which when you think about it is kind of funny because sitcoms are not normally about werewolves and stuff but-"

"Stiles!" Now he looks angry, but I can't stop talking. It's verbal diarrhoea, and I can't stop it. It's just what I do. I _babble._

"I don't know, I think they should be you know, because what's funnier than us? Teenage werewolves haha, and well actually, you aren't a teenager, you're a man, but-"

Suddenly I'm quiet. Derek's kissing my lips with a fierce passion, and I'm too stunned to do anything. All I know is that when he pulls back, I gasp in air like a dying man before grabbing him and pulling down to kiss me again. To my surprise he does, and god he tastes good. He tastes just like his scent, and his hands are warm, and he's hot, so hot, and I mean that in a temperature way, not just a looks way. But that too, because he's pulled away again, and his lips are swollen and he the way he's looking at me makes my stomach do weird things, and I can feel my hard on straining against my flimsy boxers.

And now he's trailing hot kisses down my neck, and ohmygod he's growling into my throat, and jesus christ I never thought that would be a sound that turns me on, but it is. I dig my hands into his hair, trying to pull him closer to me with a moan, and he slams me up against the brick wall with a snarl before trapping my lips in another kiss, and suddenly I can smell his desire, and his hard on which is digging into my hip bone.

Then he's stepping back again, and I'm making a whining sound in my throat that I swear to god I have never made before, but this is Derek Hale and I seem to have lost control of everything. His hands quickly unzip my hoodie and begin to roam my chest, while his lips are on mine again, his tongue in my mouth.

I'm panting hard, trying desperately not to come but jesus, it's Derek Hale, and he's holding me against a brick wall for god's sake, kissing the hell out of my mouth, and some part of my mind acknowledges that somehow I've taken his black t-shirt off, and he's wearing a pair of black pajama bottoms that _just need to go. _

And suddenly there was this awful coldness, and he's not touching me or kissing me anymore, and I'm looking around the room and he's standing meters away from me, his top back on, and his lips tight against each other.

My mouth drops open, and I realize what it means. That's kind of the universal symbol for "not into this anymore". I only stood there for a few seconds more before my senses returned and I walked out of the room, past Derek and into the hall. My eyes were wide and unseeing. It was when I was halfway upstairs that Boyd almost walked into me, sidestepping me with a "sorry man." I just carried on walking, too stunned and hurt to do anything.

I was stuck half on the burning agony of rejection, and the other part of my brain was just fried. But all I knew was that it hurt, more than any of the times that Lydia had ever turned me down at school dances, or had walked right past me in the hallway, or had forgotten my name. This _hurt_.

But I just couldn't bring myself to rationalise it, or put it into one of those little black boxes that I put everything in that I couldn't handle, like my mom's death, or my dad's health, or what I was going to do about college. So I lay there on my bed instead, staring out the tiny window into the small part of the moon that I could see, and wondering if all of this had been some hallucination. Or a nightmare.

Because really this was the stuff of my nightmares. This cold, empty fear that nearly consumed me every time I fell asleep. Because it had happened tonight. Yeah, Derek had kissed me first but I'd let him see how I really felt about him. Something I'd been hiding from myself just as much as I'd hid it from everyone else. And god, it just _hurt._


	6. Chapter 6

**Stiles **

"Do you think we should wake him up?"  
"Erica, we can't just walk in and wake him up. You'd go mad if Boyd and I did that to you."  
"Yeah, he's right. You'd rip our heads off. Literally."  
"Exactly. And Derek's only been gone for a few hours…I think. At worse, maybe a day."

There were voices outside my door, which despite being whispers were freaking loud. Being woken up was not exactly on the agenda today. I was thinking more of a "curl up in bed and eat ice-cream" kind of setup.  
I winced as a loud voice broke the silence. "That's my point! He doesn't normally disappear like that, does he? So I'm thinking we ask Stiles if he knows what happened."  
"Erica, he's probably-"  
I'd had enough of this. I swung out of bed and padded over to the door, pissed off that they were choosing this morning of all mornings to hold a pack meeting outside my bedroom. I flung open the door in time to catch Erica glaring at Boyd, who had raised an eyebrow in defiance (good to finally see him standing up to her) and Isaac, standing awkwardly to the side, running his hands through his hair.

I gave them my most sarcastic smile, the one normally reserved for Scott when he decided to tell me just how beautiful and amazing and awe-inspiring Allison looked that day.  
"Clearly there has been a miscommunication here. This? It's my room. And it's also 9am. Which means you need to be anywhere but outside said room, arguing loudly. Or, to put in in simpler terms, fuck off."  
I slammed the door behind me before stomping back over to the bed and crawling under the duvet.

I waited for their footsteps to get quieter until I lifted the duvet from over my head. Derek was gone? Probably just to get food. Or hunt bunnies or something. Or maybe harass Scott, because he seemed to do that a lot. Eh, either way, not my problem.

Unless…what if Derek had left because of last night? I mean, technically he'd been the one to initiate the hot and heavy makeout session, but…werewolf hormones were unpredictable. I still remembered the time Allison had (awkwardly) rung me up to get Scott out of her bedroom because her family were downstairs and Scott was…um, excited. A naked Scott really wasn't what I wanted to see that day. Or any day actually.

But what if Derek had just been hyped up on werewolf hormones and hadn't actually wanted to kiss me? I felt that cold, sick feeling in my stomach again. I ran a hand over my head, trying to think. He couldn't…of course it was hormones. Derek Hale wasn't gay. And even if he was, a gawky, ugly teenage reject wouldn't exactly be his first choice. Or, you know, a choice at all.

The tears stung my eyes before I realised what I was doing, my knees up against my chest, my arms wrapped around them, trying to stop the sobs escaping from my chest. Why would Derek Hale ever be interested in me? He'd probably only turned me to either keep Scott on side, or because a dead Sherriff's son would attract too much attention. I laughed. Of course that was why. Derek fucking Hale. Gorgeous, mysterious alpha werewolf. And I'd thought, like some lovestruck teenage girl, that he liked me.

Haha. It was almost funny.  
Except it wasn't. Not really.

I closed my eyes, trying to push all of the thoughts out of my head, to just calm down, because a panic attack was just the last thing I needed. The shaking breaths that I drew in eventually grew steady. I ran another hand through my short hair before getting up and getting dressed. If Derek was gone, I needed to know. If it was my fault…  
Either way, I couldn't just lie in bed all day. I was a werewolf now, surely the superpowers and the washboard abs came with it?

Looking in the dirty mirror on the wall as I took off my shirt, apparently that answer was no.


End file.
